


Help, My Battletech Captain is a Size Queen

by kimberlyeab



Category: BattleTech: MechWarrior, Furry (Fandom)
Genre: Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Furry, M/M, Porn, size queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimberlyeab/pseuds/kimberlyeab
Summary: What if Battletech was furry, and what if a merc company was led by a horny femboy wolf who likes massive zebra cock?
Kudos: 8





	Help, My Battletech Captain is a Size Queen

Contains: Zebra-on-Canine, M/M, Deepthroating, and Anal

Commission for [AlluringMing](http://www.furaffinity.net/user/alluringming). Many thanks to them for their support.

Cover Art by [TheBigBadWolf01](http://www.furaffinity.net/user/thebigbadwolf01). Also thanks to them for allowing me to use their art.

* * *

The ice-furred wolf strutted forward, moving along the line of fresh-faced recruits. His gaze narrowed as he silently and coldly inspected them, appraising each at a passing glance. About halfway through the formation, he stopped before a sheepdog, who had a bead of sweat forming on her brow. He blew one of his blue bangs out of his eyes and nodded to himself before moving on, garnering a sigh of relief from the securitized recruit.

Once he made it to the end of the line of troopers, he wheeled back around and began to march across them again.

As he spoke, his voice carried through the cramped mess hall of his ship. “Welcome to the Firefoxes. As you may know, we are one of the most prestigious mercenary companies that rove this sector of the galaxy. As such, I expect a certain degree of professionalism, due diligence, and skill from the pilots I take on.”

The recruits all snapped off a salute. “Yes, Commander Ming, Sir!”

He nodded and allowed himself a small smile. Even after all these years, the title still tickled him. 

“Now as you may have noticed, there are twelve of you standing in this hall,” he continued. “Sadly, we only have room for four recruits. As such, the next few weeks will test your resilience, composure in tense situations, and your proficiency with our equipment. Mechs are expensive and I will not have them being handled by anything less than the best of the best. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes, Sir!”

Ming stopped before one of the recruits. A well-built zebra who stood at least two heads over him and was built like a tank, being the very definition of masculinity. He also looked like he wouldn’t have much luck fitting inside anything less than fifty tons.

“What’s your name?” Ming asked.

The zebra steeled his jaw. “John… John Mateio.”

John’s voice was low and deep, sounding very nice indeed. 

Ming made a show of looking him up and down, remaining silent, hard to read, and taking on this charade to further his dominance in this situation. 

Though the wolf couldn’t deny that there were other intensions on his mind. After all, space could be a mighty lonely domain at times and it wasn’t often that he got a chance to indulge in his favourite hobby, being a shameless size queen. 

Ming then immediately realized he might’ve been leering a little too long and instead cleared his throat, hoping that no one had noticed.

“Have you ever piloted a mech before, ensign?” Ming asked.

John nodded. “Served two years as a colonial guard on Treska, piloted an Archer.”

Ming pursed his lips. “We unfortunately don’t have any Archers among our arsenal. We mostly specialize in light assault mechs. And I’m not going to lie, I’m a little worried about having to cram you inside of a Commando, Mateio”

“I wouldn’t be too concerned, Sir. You can just cut a hole in the roof and I’ll stick my head out.”

This garnered a ripple of laughter from his fellow recruits and even an amused smile from Ming himself.

“I doubt that’d be following regulations, ensign,” he said.

“We’re out on the rim, Sir. I doubt they even know how to spell the word.”

Another ripple of laughter.

Ming offered a final nod and cleared his throat, looking out upon the assembled trooper. “Alright, you are all dismissed. Take this time to familiarize yourself with my ship, the crew, and our equipment. We will be assembling at 15:00 to go over the design documents for our mechs, so ensure you have the appropriate means to take notes.”

The recruits offered one final salute and began to disperse. When John turned to leave, Ming tilted his chin towards him.

“John, I’d like to talk with you,” Ming said.

John tensed. “Am I in trouble, Sir?”

Ming shook his head. “Nothing of the sorts. I just want to inquire about your prior experience is all.”

With that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction of the recruits, heading towards a compartment on the north side of the mess hall. He briefly glanced over his shoulder, noticing that John was not only following, but that the zebra’s gaze had instinctively fallen to Ming’s fantastic ass.

Ming may or may not have purposefully worn a specially designed skin tight mech suit in order to emphasize it. A secret only known by himself and his closest officers.

The door to this compartment opened automatically, allowing Ming and the ensign to slip into his private quarters. They were the largest on the ship, but even this was rather modest, offering him little more than a bed, a desk, and enough room for a small bookshelf and lounging chair.

Ming fell into this lounging chair and smiled coyly. “So, why’d you leave your colonial post?”

John folded his hands behind his back. “Budgets cuts, Sir.”

“Budget cuts?”

“The colonial administration did not see a need to pay for such a high-cost mech force. They instead invested in a turret defensive system.”

“I see…” Ming sighed. “Shame seeing such a fine mech go to waste.” He smirked and nodded towards John. “Same goes for the pilot.”

John’s cheeks warmed. “Err… Sir?”

Ming flicked his wrist dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, ensign. Just know that you’re already miles ahead of any of the other candidates. Most of them only have experience with tanks and other armoured combat vehicles, if that. Its frustrating, but its hard to find a good quality pilot out here.”

“I’d believe it Sir,” John said. “All the best ones are either in the core or are fanatics joining up with one of the various militas popping up around these parts.”

“Makes it kind of hard to try and re-establish law and order.” Ming chuckled. “And make a good profit while doing so, of course.” 

He rested an elbow against his armrest and placed his cheek upon his knuckle, examining John with a predator’s gaze. 

“Has anyone told you that you are a handsome stallion?” he asked, grinning coyly.

This made John’s cheeks brighten to such a wonderful shade of red. “Pardon, Sir?”

“Just making a casual observation, is all. You’re a very handsome stallion, John.”

This did little to abate the heat in John’s cheeks. “Well… er… thank you, Sir?”

“Which way do your shuttle bay doors open?” Ming asked, his smile growing.

John drew in a deep breath. “I’d have to say they swing in either direction.”

“Just to be completely transparent, I did see you checking out my ass earlier, ensign.”

Ming’s smile grew as John’s blush darkened even further, turning to such a lovely embarrassed shade.

“I…” John drew in a deep breath and sighed. “It’s a very fine ass, Sir.”

“Damn straight it is. Any creature would be lucky enough to ride it.”

“I’d…” John rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’d have to agree.”

“Would you like to have a go at it?” Ming asked with such casualness, like he was asking John if he could borrow a pencil.

John stiffened. “Sir?”

“Do you want to rail my ass, ensign?” Ming asked, looking away from John and at his own hand. “I mean its cool if you don’t but… I had a feeling that you might be interested.”

“Are… we even allowed to have a relationship like that?” John asked. “That sounds very…”

Ming chuckled. “I mean what better way for me to test you and see if I can trust you at my rear.”

“That...” John snorted, “is a little on the nose, Sir.”

“I don’t really care for beating around the bushes.” 

John pursed his lips and nodded. “Well in that case… yes. Yes, I’d be game for fucking your ass, Sir.”

Ming grinned and leaned forward. “Glad you hear it, ensign.”

He slowly got out of his chair and moved seductively towards John, giving a little extra swing to his step as he approached. John relaxed a smidge and Ming took advantage, placing a pair of fingers against his strong chest, brushing them against his olive coloured tunic.

Ming’s fingers trailed downwards at a tantalizing pace until finally he came upon his desired destination, cupping a nice handful of John’s crotch. He could feel the stallion’s pride as it had begun to emerge from its sheathe, filling the palm of his hand nicely.

_What would it look like when it was fully erect?_

Ming honestly couldn’t wait to find out. He kneaded the bulge gently, massaging it through the coarse fabric of John’s garb. He could feel the stallion shiver, a masculine little moan bubbling in the back of his throat.

His hand stopped for a moment and trailed a degree upwards, two of his fingers grasping the zipper of John’s pants. He drew it downwards in one fluid motion, allowing John’s attire to concede against its cargo as his erection spilled forth and into Ming’s awaiting hand.

John’s cock was impressive, already several inches long, even in this partially stimulated state. It was a molted combination of white and black splotches, matching the tone of his fur nicely.

“Ever fucked an officer before?” Ming teased.

John chuckled. “Going to be completely honest, this is my first time.”

Ming nodded and sunk to his knees, taking up position right in front of John. He breathed in slowly, drawing in the simply divine and tantalizing smell of John’s erection. It was such a pleasingly rich mixture of cologne and a raw feral musk that built up from being cooped up for so long.

He drew forwards and took John’s unflared tip between his lips, suckling upon it gently. He savoured the taste that followed, moaning as it corrupted his taste buds.

John, for his part, grew more tense, allowing an electric shudder to course through his entire form. A low moan oozed forth from his parted lips, gracing Ming’s eagerly awaiting ears, allowing him to know what a good job he was doing upon his knees.

Ming drew back and offered a coy smolder. “Well here’s a piece of advice from someone who has a long history of fucking officers. Just do what comes naturally.”

“Y-yes Sir,” John moaned, his body shuddering as Ming went back down.

Ming took John’s tip back between his lips and suckled crudely upon it, drawing in the rich flavour right from the source. His tongue rolled around John’s tip, coating it in a thin layer of saliva and allowing the zebra’s potent pre to grace his palate. The poor stallion tasted pent up, like he hadn’t been given a proper blowjob in far too long.

This of course meant that Ming would have to make this evening extra special. After all, the duties of a commander extended far beyond the battlefield. It was also his job to ensure that his troops, even fresh-faced recruits, were given enough rest and to ensure that this rest was of adequate quality.

After a few more laps of John’s head, Ming bobbed deeper, allowing the zebra’s shaft to glide along his tongue. He wouldn’t lie, this trooper had an absolutely phenomenal tasting cock, definitely the best he sucked since his last campaign.

Ming bobbed shallowly, travelling the first few inches of John’s erection in curt little motions, his feminine hair bouncing every time he’d switch direction between going deeper and drawing back. As he inched forwards, his tongue continued its swift little cycles, making sure to bath the zebra’s erection in a thin layer of saliva.

When he drew back to the tip, he’d pause for a moment, both to draw in a steady breath and to allow John’s salty, and absolutely delectable, pre to pool upon his tongue. It was an addictive flavour, one of potent masculinity. Ming had no doubt that he’d love to cram his muzzle into John’s sack after the zebra had worked out and just drink in his masculine musk.

Soon enough, his bobbing had advanced to such a point that his tightly pressed lips made contact with John’s medial ring. Ming stopped as he reached it, pausing for a moment to look up at him.

The zebra seemed tense, his posture rigid and jaw clenched. This was not a stallion who was properly enjoying himself.

Ming drew back swiftly, pulling off of John with a nice wet pop. He licked his lips slowly, enjoying the last vestiges of John’s flavour.

“Am I not satisfying you, ensign?” Ming asked, letting out a frustrated puff of breath. “Because you’re acting like your sister is giving you a blowjob.”

John’s cheeks warmed. “Just worried about making a bad first impression, Sir.”

Ming pouted and forcefully prodded John’s stomach, causing the zebra to suck in a breath “Ensign do you know how to facefuck someone?”

“S-sir?”

Another prod. “I asked, do you know how to facefuck someone?”

John drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I might be familiar with the experience, Sir.”

“That’s good to hear, ensign, because I’m not taking on some vagabond who doesn’t know how to give his captain a proper facefucking.”

“Is this really happening,” John murmured before promptly blushing as he realized he’d just said that aloud.

“Damn straight this is happening. Now if you want a position on my team, you better fuck my face silly, do you understand?”

John snapped off a salute. “Sir, yes, Sir!”

Ming smirked and drew back towards John’s dick, taking it between his lips once again and bobbing forward in one swift motion. His lips were fluid and he moved seamlessly from John’s leaking tip to the pulsating medial ring in a matter of seconds, returning to this comfortable depth.

The captain could feel his own anatomy stir, his cock pressing against the tight material of his mech suit. He reached down and cradled the bulge, massaging it gently as he worked over John’s erection with his extremely zealous tongue.

John shivered at the sudden insertion but soon managed to gain control over himself. His hand reached behind Ming’s head and the wolf was pleased to feel the zebra’s large hand gripping his ponytail tightly. A good first step, but he was eager to see if he’d follow it up.

Soon, Ming was thrilled to experience the loss of his own bodily autonomy. His head moved without his consent as John gently began to drag him back and forth, controlling the tempo by which he explored those first few inches. The only thing Ming did control was his tongue which never waned in its relentless marathon, moving quickly around his pride.

At first, John kept Ming at this comfortable depth, never straying beyond his medial ring. Still, Ming didn’t complain, mostly because he wasn’t really in a position to do so. Plus, John’s voice was singing him quite a bit of praise as this baritone groan of ecstasy pierced the calm of the captain’s quarters.

Soon enough, John’s inhibitions seemed to bleed away and a certain feral characteristic overcame him. He grew swifter and more volatile, finally forcing Ming to venture beyond his medial ring. The tip of his erection tickled the back of Ming’s palate and seemed to tease that dangerous zone where tongue gave way to throat.

Even for Ming, who was the best cocksucker on board, there was always the risk of gagging, or worse. This fear was amplified further by the zebra’s sheer scale, something borne from his semi-equine nature and the fact that he towered at least two heads over the wolf, whose throat he was now fucking.

Still Ming steeled himself, trying to relax as the tip finally pushed against the back of his throat. He wretched against it and John came to an immediate halt as he tore Ming away from his dick.

As Ming gasped for breath, he could see and feel strand of saliva, mixed with pre and other less pleasant substances spiderweb away from his lips and connect it with the pulsating mammoth of a cock which hovered just off the bridge of his snout.

“S-sir,” John asked. “Are you ok?”

Ming waved him off. “I’m fine.” His voice sounded raspy, though that was to be expected.

“Do you want me to…”

Ming’s gaze narrowed. “I want to kiss your pelvis, ensign. Do you understand?”

John opened his mouth to speak but Ming cut him off.

“I want to kiss your pelvis,” he repeated, sounding far more assured.

John closed his mouth and drew in a deep breath through his nose. “Yes, Sir.”

Ming glided towards John’s cock, bobbing forward in one fluid motion and taking a generous portion in that swift stride. Then he drew back and bobbed forwards again. He took a few of these testing bobs to re-establish and warm himself up for when John took back control and used him like the sleeve he desired to be.

Soon enough, the zebra gripped Ming’s ponytail once again, holding it tight. This time however, he didn’t bob Ming along, instead opting to hold his Captain steady. Instead, he bucked his own hips forwards, pumping into the wolf’s maw. He then drew back and thrusted forwards again, grunt to himself as he used the slickness of Ming’s palate and his own erection to pound forcefully into his mouth with little restraint.

_Now this was a proper facefucking._

The depravity and brutality of it really fed into Ming’s erection, which struggled so desperately against his attire. He could feel it shiver, pre oozing from the speared tip and soaking into the slick material of his bodysuit. He wondered if he should allow himself an orgasm, though such thoughts were soon erased from his mind as John finally slipped into his throat.

In that moment, Ming’s mind went absolutely blank and his eyes widened. He couldn’t breath and panic soon took centre stage within his thoughts. For a second, he almost struggled against John, then he heard the zebra groan in ecstasy, letting out a content note of his pleasure.

This calmed Ming’s nerves and supressed his fight of flight reflexes. He had a mission to perform, one more vital than any operation in the field.

John drew back and bucked forwards forcefully, slamming deep into Ming’s throat. Ming could feel his airway bulge, struggling to accommodate the zebra. His eyes watered and throated flexed, trying desperately to expel the obtrusion that denied him air. All the while his fingers dug into his suit, wanting nothing more than to grip onto something and hold it tight.

“Fuck,” John grunted, draw back once more. “N-nearly there, Sir.”

The zebra drew back a fraction of an inch and his hips bucked forwards one last time. The first thing Ming felt was his snout scrunch as it nestled in the frantic tuff of pubic hair that colonized the stretch of fur right above John’s thick erection. A second after, he felt a pair of hefty balls slap against the underside of his muzzle.

Ming’s throat felt absolutely stuffed by the zebra’s thick pride, his gag reflex struggling feebly against him. His jaw ached and lungs tingled, the beginning edges of asphyxiation having their way with him.

Spittle formed around the edges of his lips and his tongue pawed frantically at the underside of John’s erection. It was a desperate action, trying everything to stimulate the absolute stud who was ravaging his maw.

John panted heavily and maintained his iron tight grip on Ming’s hair. His chest rose and fell, and his cock twitched, every little shudder felt throughout Ming’s well used throat. He remained buried within the wolf’s maw for a few long moments before easing back slowly.

As he left Ming’s throat, the wolf hungrily suckled down a breath, the air tainted by John’s musk as this faint stream of oxygen needed to bypass the erection still wedged within his mouth. 

His throat ached so much but John wasn’t done yet. Instead, the zebra began to piston his hips roughly, bucking into Ming’s maw and giving it a proper rutting.

His heavy frame laboured over top of Ming, his form tense and left absolutely ragged by the pace he was attempting to maintain. 

By this point, Ming had pretty much resigned himself to going limp, allowing John to take total control over him. Though with one single exception, his hand, as he continued to stroke the bulge in his uniform. His own hips grinded feebly forwards, trying their best to maximize the stimulation his digits delivered.

By now his uniform was absolutely drenched with pre, his thin essence coating his crotch and the latex-like material.

“Fuck,” John grumbled, letting out a ragged breath.

He groaned in ecstasy and drew back surprisingly swiftly, stopping when only the tip of his cock was within Ming’s maw. For a second, the captain was puzzled by this decision. Then he felt the zebra start to flare, his head expanding a couple inches, further straining the poor wolf’s jaw as he was forced to accommodate.

The zebra grunted and his first string of thick spunk shot out upon Ming’s palate. It tasted salty, rich, laden with masculinity and other depraved flavours. A moment later, this sample was joined by a second, turning a taste into a proper treat.

Ming waited for the third string but John had other plans, pulling the wolf free of his cock. This meant that the third strand shot forth, splattering Ming’s face and drawing a line from his left eyebrow all the way down to his jaw.

Ming snapped his eye shut, saving himself from getting any of John’s seed within it. Still he managed to keep one eye open, so he could watch John draw another hot white streak upon his complexion, this time across his cheek. Then a more constrained one along his hair. And finally, one which went from his chin and down along his neck.

After that John had been reduced to little more than a dribble. Yet, even this wasn’t wasted as he rocked forwards, holding the tip of his flare over Ming’s face. He stroked himself slowly, milking out these last few precious drops and allowing them to dribble onto Ming’s forehead, like the cherry a top a sundae.

Finally spent, John took a deep breath and offered a dopey smile. “How was that, Sir?”

“Acceptable,” Ming rasped.

“Only acceptable?” John snorted. “I think I did a pretty fine job of ruining your throat.”

Ming shook his head and motioned towards the bathroom.

“Towel.”

A single noun and it was delivered like a command. Within a moment, John stirred as he remembered his place upon this ship and rushed towards Ming’s private washroom. He returned a moment later with a fluffy red towel.

Ming nodded and snatched it from his grip, using it to clean up some of the mess left upon his complex. While it didn’t completely do away with John’s essence, it had liberated his eye, at the very least.

“Made quite the mess,” Ming muttered. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any of the floor or I’d make you clean it up with your toothbrush.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Fuck I needed that.”

“Felt pretty nice,” John agreed.

Ming smirked. “Glad you enjoyed my throat, ensign.” He stumbled to his feet, and once steady, lightly punched John’s shoulder. “You weren’t too shabby yourself.”

“Thank you, Sir. It isn’t often that I get to uh… go that hogwild.”

“I’ll have to make sure you have plenty of opportunities to do so in the future then,” Ming said, plopping down in his chair and studying the zebra stud. “Though, I do hope you’re aware that this whole… affair will not result in any favouritism or bias when I’m selecting my mech pilots.”

John frowned and nodded curtly. “Of course, Sir.”

“As much as I do enjoy a proper facefucking, I don’t really want to base the merit of one of my troopers on that.”

Ming hummed, drumming his fingers against his thigh. He could still feel his erection pressing against the material of his body suit and was aware that there was a decently sized bulge in his attire. So, he shifted his leg, taking on a more casual posture and exposing this fact to John.

The ensign lit up, his posture stiffening and his own erection twitching once again, much to Ming’s delight. His gaze both seemed locked on Ming’s erection while desperately trying to avoid the sight of it.

Ming’s lips peeled back in a predatory smolder. “I hope you have another round in you, ensign. I’d be pretty disappointed if you’re the type of stallion who has his fun and then fucks off.”

“Of course not.” John cracked an uneasy smile. “I’m an utter gentleman.”

Ming snorted. “Hard to find a proper gentleman in this neck of the woods.”

“We’re a dying breed.”

“Hopefully not one of those honour in combat assholes though,” Ming said. “Last thing I need is you letting a wounded mech limp away just so it can frag us another day.” Without waiting for a response, he motioned towards a dresser tucked away against the wall. “Second drawer from the top please.”

John cocked a brow but did as instructed, opening the drawer. As he did so, a single note of bemusement fell from his lips as he pulled out a bottle of lube. Though his gaze did linger upon the contents of the drawer for a moment longer.

“Nice collection,” he commented.

Ming shrugged. “Sometimes its hard being a size queen on a ship like this. Inner world twinks got to make do.”

He got out of his chair and moved towards the bed, swaying his hips as he did so.

“Want to see a magic trick?” Ming asked, bracing himself against the mattress and sticking his plump ass high into the air.

John snorted. “Sure… amaze me.”

Ming reached for a small console on his wrist and pushed a button. There was a _whooshing_ sound as he felt the nanolatex peel away from his crotch, revealing his knotted erection, heavy balls, and tight little asshole to his guest.

“Neat,” John said, letting out an amused snort as he came up behind and placed the lube next to Ming’s side.

Ming nodded, wiggling his hips enticingly. “A nano chemist back home owed me a favour.”

He could hear John rubbing his hands together, the sound of the slick lubricant against his palms music to Ming’s ears. Then he heard John rubbing it into his erection, giving his cock a series of nice long strokes, really working it over.

“Ever took a zebra before?” John asked, resting his shaft against Ming’s rump.

Ming shivered softly, feeling the stallion’s large erection pressed against his body. It was warm and just pulsed with this raw masculine energy that the wolf wanted desperate to plunge into his tight little rump.

“A couple of times,” he cooed. “Always feels nice when they flare in you.”

John hummed, grinding his cock between Ming’s flanks, giving the captain a bit of time to really appreciate the sheer size of the cock that had ravaged his throat.

“Are you clean?” John asked.

Ming nodded. “Nanites take care of that.”

“That is…” John shook his head. “You know what, not even going to question it.”

He drew his cock back and shifted over, plopping down on the bed next to Ming. He reached for the lube and poured some onto two of his thick fingers, coating them in a perverse sheen. Then, with great care, he pressed one of his thick fingers into Ming’s backside, sliding it all the way to the knuckle.

Ming inhaled and clenched the sheets of his bed. “Fuck.”

John chuckled. “That was only one finger, Captain. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle my cock?”

“Totally,” Ming murmured.

This single digit was pumped slowly back and forth before John drew it out. A moment later, it was replaced by two of his thick fingers which he pressed against Ming’s tight little rump, sliding into him at a leisurely pace.

Ming gasped and shuddered as the fingers pressed nice and deep into him, all the way to John’s knuckle. Slowly, John began to pump them, spreading the lube within Ming’s tight little rump.

“Permission to speak freely,” John said, giving a few final pumps into Ming before pulling his fingers out and wiping them on his fatigues.

“Granted,” Ming cooed.

John stood up and took up position behind Ming once again, resting the tip of his unflared head right against his pucker. “If you have to go to the medical bay because of this, don’t say that I didn’t try and warn you.”

Ming snorted. “Don’t worry, you won’t face any repercussions if you break my asshole, ensign.”

“Good to hear, Sir.”

John rocked forwards gently, the tip of his erection pressing ever so slowly into Ming’s tight little rump. In response, Ming gripped the sheets of his bed tightly and let out a shuddering moan. The stallion was thick, his cock much larger than the two fingers he had attempted to warm him up with. Yet, the captain took it like a champ, shuddering as the stallion pushed his thick tip into him.

Ming’s erection pulsed back to life, a crude strand of his pent-up essence bubbling to the tip and oozing onto the sheets below.

John grabbed the base on Ming’s tail and gripped it tightly, using it as leverage as he pumped forwards, pressing into him fluidly. This drew forth a ragged gasp from Ming as the stallion bucked into him quite forcefully. 

“Keep going,” Ming ordered, his voice shaking as John kept up his vigour.

John grunted in response and his hips grew a little more potent. His pace remained slow but he covered a greater distance, thrusting into Ming with several inches of his pride. Yet, he had not allowed his pulsating medial ring to slip within. For sure, he allowed the bulge in his anatomy to press against Ming’s tight little pucker but he hadn’t taken the faithful step into pushing it inside. It was like he almost seemed reluctant to test Ming’s flexibility.

Soon his tempo grew more frantic, his pace envigored as he pumped roughly with the first few inches of his erection. He ensured that Ming’s hips stayed in place, his grip like a vice upon the poor wolf’s tail. A cascade of masculine grunts dripped forth from his maw, mingling into a crude duet with the far more feminine squeaks and chirps of Ming.

Ming could feel a pressure settle within his own core, his cock pulsing with a desire to cum. He starved off such sensations, tensing his core muscles in order to deny himself. It had been far too long since he’d been properly rutted by a real stallion and he aimed to enjoy the experience for as long as was physically possible.

John grunted loudly and jerked forwards, pressing his thick ring against Ming’s pucker once more. However, this time he didn’t relent, instead pressing forwards with a considerable fraction of his potent strength.

Ming gasped as he felt his rump give in and the ring slip inside. He shuddered violently against the sheets, rocking forwards with each of John’s strong thrusts. His voice cried out as he felt the stallion press deep into him, the tip of his erection grazing an especially receptive cluster of nerves.

“Harder,” Ming pleaded, his voice ragged and hoarse.

John growled and slammed a hand down upon the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. He bucked his hips forcefully, too focused on fucking Ming to dignify his request with a verbal response. He instead let his action speak for him as he plowed forcefully into the twinkish little wolf, driving himself deep with little restraint. Soon enough, their hips clapped together, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing through the little cabin.

The stallion drew his hand away from the sheets and clapped it down rough against Ming’s rump, causing him to yelp loudly as he dug his strong fingers into his backside.

Ming’s cock was so tender, just begging for the blissful release he’d been craving since his poor little throat had been ravaged. And with John now grinding forcefully against his prostate, he had no doubt that his defenses would give out soon enough.

“Fuck,” John grunted, his pace slowing just a hair.

Ming hissed and rocked back against him. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, ensign.”

The zebra growled and his vigour emboldened, once again, pounding into Ming like he was a glorified fleshlight. His heavy form pressed down upon Ming, forcing the petite captain into the embrace of his sheets.

John’s hand slipped away from Ming’s tail as he instead reached forwards and grabbed a nice fistful of the captain’s hair. He yanked it back forcefully, drawing Ming’s face away from the sheets. His pleasured sounds of bottoming would not be muffled. John would ensure that the whole fucking ship would hear them, and know that their captain was being bred like a whore.

Then Ming sung one final note, a piercing end to his pleasure. His cock twitched violently and a string of his solid white spunk shot forth, plastering the sheets in his sticky essence. This initially potent string was joined by another and another, absolutely drenching his bedding with his biologically material.

As he came, his rump tightened forcefully around John’s erection, forcing the stallion’s pace to abate. Still, John managed to etch out another thrust or two before he hilted within Ming, shooting his own load into the wolf’s slutty little asshole.

His second load was still an incredibly potent force, flooding Ming’s rump and overwhelming it, causing a generous ration to gush out and stain the sheets with his essence.

The two men remained still for a moment, silent with the exception of their own haggard breathing, motionless except for the rising and falling of their chests. They were spent, though obviously highly satisfied with the end result if the flood of fluids that coated the duo were any indication. 

After taking a moment to regroup himself, John drew back, pulling out of Ming with a satisfying slurp. A belch of fluids followed his erection as his white essence gushed forth, oozing down Ming’s shaking legs.

“Fuck,” Ming murmured, sinking to the sheets. “N-nice work.”

John drew in a breath and offered a shaky smile. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, Sir. Hopefully I didn’t beat you up too bad?”

Ming shook his head. “Not at all.” He cracked a small smile. “Told you I could take it.”

“So, is there anything else I could do for you, Captain?”

Ming shuffled around upon his bedding, feeling the sticky essence that now tainted it. “That depends…”

“On what?” John asked, cocking a brow.

“Did they ever teach you how to properly wash sheets back in your old unit?”

* * *

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